


Old flame

by kindaeccentric



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Asshole Brendon Urie, Cheating, Cigarettes, Coffee, Current Events, Love/Hate, M/M, Mistakes, Morning After, One Night Stands, Other, Past Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie, Short One Shot, They're both assholes, Unresolved Emotional Tension, but assholes with feelings, but not really, those are a few of my favourite things...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 03:25:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7874311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindaeccentric/pseuds/kindaeccentric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2016 Ryan's and Brendon's 'one night only' thing. The tags say it all. Written in a peculiar, movie scene style? Anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old flame

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a sinner. I love Sarah Urie, but I'm a sinner. English is not my native tongue, bla bla bla... It looked better in my head.
> 
> Edit: PERSONAL TIP Read it slowly. Imagine how it would feel like, how would they say certain things. I know, I didn't do a good job, but work with me here.

Friday morning, dark bedroom, a thin line of light from between the grey curtains pouring into the room and slashing it in two.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. They did meet accidentally before on parties, they even small talked, but they had an unwritten agreement not to go back into the past. It was a past for a reason, so they never spoke about it. Not when they were sober enough and sane. It was a mistake, one that could cost Brendon marriage. He was laying in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to comprehend the night before. The sheets smelled like Ryan and his cologne. It was overwhelming, half familiar and half not. Ryan was sitting on the edge of the bed in his underwear and smoking a cigarette, an ashtray on his knee. He had red scratches from Brendon’s nails on his back. Brendon sat up and looked at him for a moment. It was a banal thing to say, even to think, but he thought Ryan grew up. He was still lean, but larger, boldly masculine. Brendon knew he had no right to be mad for what happened that night at Ross, not entirely. He wasn't the one, who started to flirt and the one who kept offering drinks... Brendon rubbed his eyes. Maybe this night was to prove something, maybe he wanted to see if he still has that charm Ryan couldn't resist years ago. The smoking man turned his head and smiled to Brendon in an artificial, apologizing way. He was more handsome, more self-reliant, bittersweet. It was a different Ryan and the same one at once. He had a stubble and a cross earing in his ear. Brendon could tell his thighs are burning thanks to that stubble.

‘Are those mine?’, asked Brendon and tapped Ryan's arm for him to give him a smoke.

‘Yes, you should buy a new pack. And this is my bed, I don't want ashes in it.’

Brendon moved to the edge of the bed next to Ryan and placed his feet on the floor, then was given the rest of the cigarette. He was naked and had to cover himself with the quilt. Their legs and arms were touching, but the intimacy was lost on them.

‘How's Sarah?’

‘Don't… Just don't.’

‘I wasn't… I’m starting a conversation.’

‘Sure you do.’

Ryan licked the edge of his mouth and sighed heavily. He barely managed to not roll his eyes. Barely, because Brendon noticed the expression and frowned.

‘I hate it, when you do that.’

‘Do what?’

‘Make a face like I’m an idiot.’

‘I just don't think you deserve that sarcasm.’

They were sitting in silence, Brendon shook off the ash to the ashtray on Ryan’s knee.

‘Are you hangover, Ry?’

‘No. Are you?’

Brendon shrugged and put out the cigarette.

‘You always smoke inside?’

‘Usually not. It irritates pets. And is bad for the furniture. Do you?’

‘Oh… No.’

Ryan stood up and placed the ashtray on the shelf. He looked at Brendon over his shoulder. The man with tattoos, with messed up hair and tired eyes. His glossy, plump lips. He remembered those. The whole Brendon, with his attitude, that he used so often to cover up his secrets and insecurities. Ryan preferred to hide his in the shadows, not in the blinding spotlight. He turned back to Brendon awkwardly.

‘So… at least the sex was good, right?’

‘Right. You had a lot of practice…’

‘If that's a cheating innuendo I will slap you.’

‘You said it. Plus you did yesterday.’

‘Well, that one was for fun.’

They stared at each other for a while with a smirk. It was something between a flirt and a threat. The air seemed to be ticker, making breathing slightly harder. The atmosphere of the night soaked into the morning like spilled alcohol and stained them in an invisible, but easily traceable way.

‘You look good Ryan.’

‘Thank you, so do you.’

Ryan suddenly realized something, looked around nervously and clapped his hands.

‘Wow, oh, ok, what kind of a host I am, do you want coffee?’

Brendon almost laughed, but sadness in the back of his throat didn’t allow him. The situation was so surreal.

‘Yeah. Thanks.’

Ryan was about to leave the room, but froze for a second by the door.

‘You can take a shower if you want. The bathroom is on the right from the living room.’

‘Towel?’

‘Just take any.’

\--

Brendon stood in front of a bathroom mirror. He had a bruise on the shoulder in the shape of a hickey, clearly visible. It was a hickey, but he tried to convince himself it's not. He pressed it and flinched. He remembered Ryan's lips and teeth in this place and how good they felt. He closed his eyes and cursed.

‘You dick…’, he whispered to himself.

\--

Ryan felt the skin on his back itching. He knew why and his hand with the spoon stopped mid-air over the coffee machine. He felt a little fire crawling inside down his stomach. The moans were still ringing in his ears.

‘Fuck… Focus, bitch.’

\--

Brendon after the shower felt somehow dirtier than before. Using the things Ryan was using every day in his life without him in it was adding to the oddity. It felt like rubbing Ryan onto himself. He dressed up in the clothes from the night before. They were wrinkled and smelled of smoke, vodka and bad decisions, but it was still more bearable than Ryan's body wash.

Brendon had to make a call.

‘Hi Sarah, I stayed overnight by an old friend, so don't worry. I partied a little too hard last night and I completely lost the track of time. You have all the right to be mad. I love you, honey. Kiss the dogs from me.’

Ryan didn't want to, but accidentally overheard the message and his brow was rising higher with each word. If it was physically possible it would fly up to the ceiling. When Brendon came into the kitchen he had to ask.

‘What?!’

‘You plan on telling her?’

Brendon sat by the kitchen counter. Ryan was adding sugar to his coffee. He had only jeans on, his cat laying on the floor next to his feet.

‘Yes. No. I don't know, it's not your business.’

‘My personal advice-don't. Look where honesty has brought us. You felt hurt, I lost the man I loved. It's overrated. It will only break her heart...'

Ryan was speaking softly, carelessly, pretending he is not affected by anything. Only his smile, even the sad one, was gone.

‘Why did you cheat on me in the first place?’

Ryan sighted like he was about to think through his answer, but in the end just blurted out whatever first came to his mind.

‘To hurt myself. To push you away.’

‘I thought you loved me.’

‘That's the whole point. You won't get it.’

‘Well, try me, Ross. Go ahead’, said Brendon angrily. Ryan just placed a cup of coffee in front of him, looked him calmly in the eye and their fingers brushed together over the cup.

‘It doesn't matter now.’

Ryan leaned against the counter and got his own coffee.

‘It can't get worse than now. Tell me.’

‘From my experience everything can get worse, sunshine.’

‘Don't call me that.’

‘It slipped.’

\--

Thursday night, red lights, noise, chatter.

Brendon saw him before he even realized who he is. He just thought the man looks good, but then he looked closer and it was him. It was always a surprise to see him, because most of the time Brendon felt like they don't exist in the same universe any more. Ryan looked good, confident, arrogant even. Brendon spilled a shot of vodka on his own shirt and the floor, because he didn't quite reach his mouth before tilting the glass. Ryan had to notice. He was smiling and hiding his face in his hands. Brendon purely out of spite sat next to him at the bar and ordered two tequilas.

‘Am I distracting you, Urie?’, asked Ryan casually with an undertone of humor in his voice. Brendon felt a bit taken of guard already and Ryan didn't even look at him yet.

‘Hi, Ross, how's it going?’

‘Fairly well. You?’

‘Perfect. Never been better.’

‘Are you mocking me?’

‘Hell no. I was thinking we could have a drink. It's been so long, Ry. I don't want to hold the grudges.’

‘And that's why you got me tequila?’

Ryan looked at Brendon questioningly.

‘Shut up and drink’, spit out Brendon pretending to be angry, but the smile in the corners of his lips gave him out.

They emptied their glasses in one swift motion and hissed. One, then next and then another.

‘I heard you have that stage gay thing with Dallon. Not that I care, but people push it in my face for some reason.’

‘Fans miss our chemistry, I am just giving them what they want.’

‘Dallon sure is attractive…’

‘So are you. Were.’

Ryan laughed at his little slip, but stopped when he realized Brendon was not ashamed of it. Quite the contrary, the man moved closer to him and laid a hand on his shoulder with a flirty expression.

‘You should go, you're drunk’, said Ross, shaking off Brendon’s hand.

‘No, I’m not. And I don't want to go…’

Ryan knew that look, that cocky smile, and he got up to leave, but Brendon caught his wrist. He yanked it out of his grasp.

‘Just one more drink, Ross. One?’

‘I don't think so.’

‘Please…’

Brendon's finger in the hook of Ryan's pants.

‘…one, but only because you asked so nicely.’

\--

They were in the bar’s bathroom. Together for some reason. Ryan had to piss and Brendon stood next to him, smoking, way closer than polite.

‘Why don't you have anyone, Ry?’

‘I had plenty of anyones, you just didn't pay attention. Could you move, I feel like you're staring at my cock.’

‘You say it like I haven't seen it. And more.’

‘What game are you playing with me here, huh?’

Ryan closed his fly and walked past Brendon to wash his hands, look at himself in the mirror and splash some water on his face, because it was too hot in there.

‘I like your new style.’

‘Don't change the subject. You avoid me for months, shit, years even if we don't count speaking of weather and now you're all over me, why?’

‘I don't know what you…’

Ryan lost his temper, grabbed Brendon’s face and pulled him towards himself.

‘Bullshit. Why?’

Their faces were closer than in years. Ryan could feel Brendon’s breath on his hand and gently pushed him away, but the man caught the front of his shirt not letting him go. Ryan frowned in mild confusion.  Brendon’s bottom lip was slightly shaking and his half-lidded eyes were shiny, black and beautiful. Ross felt slightly disgusted, but he felt the rest of his body didn't agree with the brain's common sense. The cigarette in Brendon’s other hand was slowly getting eaten by fire, the ashes falling to the bathroom floor. Ryan's hand moved to take it away from him. He reached for his arm and slid his hand down until he touched fingers. He took the sad, smoldering remnants of the cigarette and unapologetically threw it into the toilet, then touched Brendon’s arm again.

‘You were going to get burnt.’

‘I know…’

They stood like this until Brendon leaned over and brushed his lips against Ryan's jawline teasingly, yet not without doubt. Suddenly he felt stinging in his cheek and pain in his backside and realized Ryan slapped him and pushed him onto the sink.

Brendon hated being dominated in life, he had too strong personality for it, and sure as hell he didn't like being hit, but he would have to step up his game in lying very significantly to pretend he didn't liked that.

‘Fuck you, Brendon and your pretty face.’

Ryan was holding him by the hair and kissed him violently, almost bruising his lips with the force of it. The line between love and hate wasn't thin for them, it was rather a highway where they drove fast and only if they crashed they would fall on one side of the road as a wreck.

\--

They changed their minds seven times from the club, through the parking lot and to the cab before they actually arrived at Ryan's house. Dottie came to greet her master and Ryan would feel bad for not petting her if he haven't had Brendon’s tongue in his mouth. He headed straight for the bedroom, not even turning on the lights on the way and dragged Brendon with him.

Ryan was not gentle. Neither when he was kissing the insides of Brendon’s thighs, nor when he slid inside and fucked him, nor when he kissed his lips and neck. Brendon not even once asked him to stop. He scratched Ryan’s back in pleasure. Ross could do anything he wanted and Urie would obediently take it. Nothing was more arousing than knowing how the situation, their bodies, their experience and their lives had changed, against the voice of reason and morality. Brendon adored every second of it, he adored losing the control almost as much as Ryan gaining it.

\--

‘Now that I look at you longer, you actually didn't change that much, Ross’, said Brendon observing how he tries to put together some kind of breakfast for both of them.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You still have some of that childlike softness in your features.’

‘You didn’t change at all. You have the same stupid grin and eyes sparkly like Christmas ornaments.’

Brendon chuckled and saw Ryan smiling to himself.

‘And songs…’

‘Leave the songs. Or I will bring out yours.’ Ryan pointed the butterknife at him. It wasn't very threatening.

‘You said you don't listen to them anymore.’

Ryan sighed and came back to cutting a bun in half.

‘I don't, I only read the lyrics. How else would we have that little ‘conversation’’.

Ryan made finger quotes with just one hand.

‘Yeah. Riiight, George.’

Brendon received a deathly stare.

\--

They sat on Ryan’s sofa with a plate of yesterday's buns with jam. Dot knowing she can't convince Ryan to give her the whole bun turned her eyes to Brendon.

‘Don't let her trick you. She would swallow all of them if you'd let her.’

‘I have dogs too, you know?’

‘I’m just warning you.’

Brendon petted Dottie’s head.

‘She's adorable. Her name is Dorothy, right? You always loved Wizard of Oz.’

They started to talk. To really talk for the first time in years. The conversation started to flow towards their sexual lives.

‘So Ry, you prefer women now?’

‘Not that I specifically prefer them. It's just easier, less problematic. Men are… aggressive. And proud. With men it's always a competition. I had enough drama in my life already.’

‘Me being that drama?’

‘Well… You were not the easiest to maintain. Even still you won't admit you are actually bisexual.’

‘I am not.’

‘There you go…’

‘Well… Fuck you. You weren't faithful!’

‘Oh, so you did care… I was living with a man, who refused to acknowledge his feelings, I was getting lonely.’

‘You were neglectful. I adored you. I would die for you back then...’

‘Then why you never once called me something else that a friend? Why you pretended it was all a game? I was tired of your closeted ass.’

‘This is such hypocrisy…’

‘I don't need to scream that I like dicks from the rooftops to be more secure in my sexuality than you ever will be.’

‘You are secure in literally nothing, Ross. You lack honesty.’

‘Like you are the fucking king of it.’

They became silent, the anger and betrayal burning bright, the flames high, but not nearly as scorching as they used to be and soon they turned cold and lost all passion like the echo of a distant memory. They could see some kind of tiredness in each others faces, the mark of the years that passed. Their youth was on the edge of overripe.

‘I’m sorry, Brendon.’

‘Me too.’

‘Why did you pick me up yesterday? Was it some kind of… final sin? Before some major life decision?’

‘Maybe. I already settled down, I’m married for gods sake. About a week ago we thought with Sarah, that she’s pregnant, but it was false alarm… I don't know, I shouldn't be so reckless.’

‘You shouldn't, but you are. I know you love her, you love her more than you ever loved anyone including me and don't try to argue, but man, you are not perfect.’

‘You knew it was bad. You could have punched me and send me home.’

‘I tried at first, but I have weak will. I really wanted to tear you apart finally, so I didn't care. I’m sorry for that too.’

‘It was my fault too.’

‘It’s just… My...retaliation should not backfire against Sarah.’

‘You don't say it with a lot of emotion.’

‘I mean it. It's just that my emotions dried out, they are stale. Like the buns we were eating.’

‘They weren't that bad with jam.’

‘What's the equivalent of jam for emotions?’

‘I have no idea. Sex maybe?’

‘Is that a statement or a question?’

‘Both.’

They smiled like after hearing a good joke. They were sitting too close for their own good.

‘Speaking of... You should shower, Ryan.’

‘Do I smell bad?’

‘No, you smell arousing and that's what scares me.’

They unconsciously leaned over to the other one.

‘Do you even think before you speak?’

‘I don't think so…’

They were glancing at each other's lips and eyes, trying to read the intentions and gloriously failed falling into a thoughtless kiss, ignoring the dog whining for attention. The kiss tasted like the last sip of cold coffee you forgot about and then discover it after coming back home from work and drink it, because you're too thirsty to make a new cup. It was bad, but still satisfying. Their foreheads were connected and their eyes still closed. Brendon sighed and whispered.

‘Fuck. I missed you. And I will keep missing you in those moments when I stand in the kitchen on a Sunday morning before Sarah comes to kiss my neck. The thought of you haunts me, comes back to me every time I’m alone. It became an automatic response from my brain. Brendon, are you alone? Here, have a Ryan. I can't stand you. You are too much to handle all at once and I can't cut you into pieces that suit me. So I chose to resign from you altogether. But I miss you. Oh, how I miss you.’

‘Shit, Brendon… I… that's so much better than what you said to me the other time.’

‘Thanks.’

Ryan pulled away slightly to look at him and touch his cheek and the line of his lips.

‘I miss you differently. I remember you when something or someone reminds me of you. Mostly when I’m out with some people. I see you in gestures, in speech patterns, in other faces, particular clothes someone is wearing…The parts that make you aren't special, but your whole is better than the sum of those parts. You are the prototype of all my obsessions. You stand tall like a marble statue in my memory, beautiful, everlasting and dead.’

Brendon caught his hand and didn't let go of it.

‘You still got your way with words, don't you?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Fucking showoff.’

Ryan laughed and rested his head on the back of the sofa.

\--

Waiting for Brendon’s taxi they were standing outside of the house in the hot sun, Ryan put on a striped shirt from the night before and Dottie was walking around and harassing Brendon to pet her.

‘We had a nice romance back in the day.’

‘We both love our past selves. But you must admit, we are good now too. I might have even fallen in love with current you if I wasn't married. In another life maybe.’

‘Or in another time. We can't predict the future… but I wish you well, happiness with Sarah and children if you two happen to have them eventually.’

‘Thank you, Ry. I hope you'll be happy too.’

When the taxi arrived, Brendon gave Ryan a strong hug before leaving.

‘See you around, gremlin.’

‘Bye, babe.’

Ryan stood there before he could not see the car anymore.

‘Come on, Dot. We’ll go for a walk.’


End file.
